Nothing Strange
by iviscrit
Summary: Kuvira teaches Baatar self defense, but some of those holds are kinda awkward. How does the Great Uniter help her VP get over his awkwardness? By playing the awkward game, of course! Humor-ish Baavira for saigneux.


Kuvira grimaced as her back collided with the packed earth. "Good," she breathed, a new soreness in her limbs from the hyperextension and fatigue that was slowly becoming the norm when she sparred with Baatar.

After their departure from Zaofu, she had taken it upon herself to get her right-hand man into fighting form. It wasn't that she expected him to join her in open combat- he had little experience in such matters, and she couldn't risk the most valuable asset to their budding technology sector on the battlefield- but Baatar stuck out as the intellectual aboard the mag train. His jaw had lacked the grim set of a soldier, his chest breadth had hardly inspired deference, and the benign, gentle look behind his round frames did little to command authority. He was her chief engineer, and he more than looked the part. Or at least he had looked the part, before Kuvira had taken matters into her own hands.

The sun was oppressive, and she knew the redness in her cheeks would require a tincture of aloe by the end of their session. Whipping Baatar into shape had proven to be more fun than she'd imagined, and it wasn't because she enjoyed watching his lean frame fill out.

At least, that's what she told herself.

Sparring was proving difficult for her with a bandaged right arm, and she reminded herself more than once that metal bending would defeat the entire purpose of the practice. Countless weeks of her tutelage, both in the weight room and out, was transforming Baatar into the perfect image of a soldier. He had proved to be a fast learner, once he was coaxed out of his initial awkwardness and hesitance to fight her; a few well-placed blows quickly did away with his reservations. Several pounds of muscle bulked up his frame faster than she'd expected. His new haircut set off the angle of his jaw better than she'd expected, too.

Her back to the ground, dust caking her bare scapulae and coating the back of her leggings, Kuvira pursed her lips as she regarded his face above hers. There was surprise in his eyes; he clearly hadn't anticipated being able to pin her. Time seemed to slow, a pearly bead of sweat hanging off the tip of his nose, and she almost laughed.

"So, do I pass- hey!"

In an instant, Kuvira had executed an arm bar, disarming him in the most uncomfortable way imaginable. "It's not over yet," she said, almost feeling bad for subjecting him to the defensive hold. It was never particularly easy, having one's head between an opponent's thighs and instructed to break free. The heat and dust and slick layer of perspiration likely wasn't making it any easier for him, and after another brief grapple Baatar sat with his back to the fencing, his cheeks flushed.

"Was that really necessary?"

She had ordered the train to stop along the rocky hillside, and she turned her back to him as she observed the midday sun bathing the red cliffs in its glow off in the distance. "You had to learn," Kuvira said dismissively, arching to the side in a graceful stretch. Tiny complaints in her shoulders and back twinged in pain at the steady movement, and she gritted her teeth appreciatively at the evidence of his progress. A sharp twist of her wrists caused the dust to fall away from her, a red powder that had tinted her sunburn the color of clay and concealed her flush from the exertion. "You were doing pretty well, Baatar. I'll need to teach you a few more defensive maneuvers, though. The second I introduce a new tactic, you fold."

She could feel him shift his weight as he sputtered in indignation. "You picked the most awkward- how was I supposed to-" He stopped, getting the words past gritted teeth with an embarrassed cadence. "You're a good teacher, but maybe it's time for me to start training with the troops."

Kuvira turned, feeling the sun's rays on her exposed upper back and rubbing at her neck. Her face tingled from what promised to be an angry sunburn the following day, and she massaged her bound arm. "You've made good progress. If we keep this up, the only way I'll be able to overpower you is through tactics or bending. If the formula works, why change it?" She scooted closer, leaning against the temporary fencing and gesturing to the heat haze over the smooth stones in the distance. "Is that a mirage?"

"Optical illusion from the heat. Technically speaking, we'd call it an inferior mirage." He wiped the perspiration from his glasses. "Please don't change the subject."

"It looks like water," she continued, her arm brushing his as she gestured again. "It's so strange, how does that work?" she mused aloud, her eyes narrowing as she gazed out at the expanse of baked clay, the lands of a kingdom centuries old spread out before them like so many miles of untapped potential. There were ore reserves, and precious minerals, and bodies of men and women who had lived and fought and died for that land under the red expanse, and a sudden surge of patriotism swelled in her chest as she regarded the country she was newly responsible for.

"Nothing strange about it," Baatar said, his eyes on her. "It's just physics. I'll explain it all to you if you let me train with the others."

"You don't need to feel bad about a girl beating you," she said dismissively. "I've been trained in combat for years, and you know how proficient Su…" She caught herself. "You know I was trained by the best."

He grimaced, ignoring the mention of his mother. "That's not what I meant. I'll just… spar with the other men, okay? You have more important things to do than train me, you're already responsible for me being able to do go through the drill without getting winded. No need to keep tossing me around on top of that-"

She held up a hand to stop him. "Baatar, I'm sorry…" she said, contrite. "I didn't mean to act like I was putting you down."

"No, it's just… that's kind of awkward physical contact, you know?"

"You do pushups with me on your back," she pointed out. "That isn't awkward to you?"

"It is, but less so- I don't know," Baatar said, throwing up his hands in frustration. "I don't want to learn how to do an arm bar from you, alright?"

"Oh, I see what the problem is," Kuvira said decisively. "You're uncomfortable around me—"

"What? No—"

"-because you think physical contact like that is strange. You just aren't used to it," she said. "Come on, we'll do a desensitizing exercise."

"What?"

"Sit," she said, patting the ground next to her. "And with your knees apart, please. I'll start at your ankle. Tell me at what point you're uncomfortable," she added, moving her hand up the length of his leg.

"Wait-" he said as her hand passed his knee. "Kuvira, stop."

"So you're uncomfortable past the knee," she said, nodding. "We'll fix that." Her hand traveled upward, and as she neared the juncture of his thighs he slapped her hand away.

"Stop," he snapped. "Spirits, Kuvira. That's… that's so invasive…"

She raised an eyebrow. "When you're sparring, you're up close and personal with parts you ordinarily wouldn't be touching. It's just technique, Baatar."

"Well, it's really damn uncomfortable," he retorted, wrapping his arms around his knees. "Why did I consent to this?"

"You'll get over it, I was awkward too," she said, stretching her legs out and splaying her feet apart. "Here, try me."

His head snapped up. "Excuse me?"

"I'll show you that it's nothing," she said, placing his hand on her ankle. "Go ahead."

Baatar swallowed. "I don't think—"

"Fine," she muttered, grabbing his wrist and guiding it up her leg. "Sorry, I didn't realize my skin was like sandpaper..."

"No, it's fine," he said, a blush blooming over his cheeks. "Soft, actually."

"See?" she said as he reached her thigh. "Nothing strange about it."

"Can I stop?" he asked, his voice plaintive as he neared the top.

Kuvira rolled her eyes. "Fine." She moved his hand to the outside of her thigh, and he exhaled slowly. "You're uncomfortable having your arm on my chest too, aren't you?"

"I- what? No, I just—"

"It's fine," she said, guiding his hand up her torso. "Mammaries make boys uncomfortable, you'll get over it."

"Kuvira, this is ridiculous—"

"There," she said, letting go once his hand was over her heart, the thumb jammed against her left breast and the fingers splayed out under it. "See? Nothing strange at all, just focus on my heartbeat."

"If you say so.." Baatar paused, feeling her heart pounding against her ribcage. "Huh. You're right, this isn't that bad. It's like a little metronome."

She looked up from his hand at her chest, and caught his eyes with her own as his steady palm seemed to catch each beat. "I told you so," she said, her words dragging a bit as he looked at her, his face flushed like her own and his skin glowing from something more than exertion as the sun slipped through its path in the sky. "Nothing... nothing strange at all."

* * *

 **A/N: I had an idea for the Kuvira-teaches-him-an-armlock during the early parts of the timeskip. Picture her 21, him 22. :) Very very early, like just after Ba Sing Se early. I need some cute lighthearted Baavira badly XP**

 **Wrote it for the bae, hope the bae liked it 3**


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